


This Isn't The Crap They Do On TV

by thatgaywizard



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Anal, Banter, Enemies to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Harringrove, Locker Room, M/M, Make Outs, Spandex, Taunting, UST, Wrestling, high school gym, possessive!Billy, shiny, wet, wrestling au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:28:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26427127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatgaywizard/pseuds/thatgaywizard
Summary: With everything going on Steve decides to take a little break from basketball this semester and give wrestling a try, maybe escape the irritating new guy, if that's even possible...
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Harringrove - Relationship
Comments: 9
Kudos: 182





	This Isn't The Crap They Do On TV

“Alright class,” professor Perkins says as he sweeps his papers together on the desk. The students are already on their feet trying to get out of the room as if the whole thing is filling up with water, fast, but he continues to talk over their noise. “Remember to check the new electives, sign ups will be starting soon!”

Steve registers this as he zips his bag up and slings it over his shoulder. That’s right, the new roster. He might try something new. Basketball is cool and has been his niche for a while but he’s not excited about his team. Ever since the new guy showed up it’s become almost impossible to play a game without getting grounded or stressed out by the angst of his team mates begging him to _do something. (C’mon Steve! The New Guy is killing us!)_

It’s not his fault they can’t cope. Admittedly it’s been fun to have someone challenge him for once but some days it’s just...exhausting.

Hargrove- that’s his name. The guy. Never. Stops. And he never cools off. And Steve...he’s still kinda fucked up over Nancy and everything just kinda feels like it’s flying by him, pelting him in the face- sometimes literally- and he’s just trying to figure out where he’s standing half the time.

Maybe he needs a change of scenery sort of speak, something different to focus on. A distraction. 

A week later he walks into the auditorium and finds a spot in the short bleachers with a group of other boys who are waiting for the wrestling coach to arrive. He recognizes half of them from other classes, but doesn’t really know anyone personally.

The instructor shows up exactly on the hour and claps his hands together before he starts talking and telling them how much dedication they are going to need to have.

Awesome. The coach is gonna be one of _those_ types. Steve frowns. He’s gonna stick it out. Who knows how it will go. Most instructors loosen up after the first few days. 

Their wrestling coach is already into his speech about safety and gear and just starting on the rules when the doors to the auditorium open and- 

_You have to be fucking kidding me,_ Steve thinks.

 _Hargrove_. 

Steve sighs and rolls his eyes as the new guy makes his way over. 

“We’ve already started,” the coach says disapprovingly. “You missed some important stuff. If you want in this class you’re going to have to see me after we’re done here.”

“It’s fine,” Billy says coolly. “I’ve done this before.”

The coach looks at him like he’s heard that one a time or two but continues on with what he was saying prior to the interruption and Billy makes his way to the bleachers. His eyes land on Steve after half a second and Steve gives him only a brief look of acknowledgement before he turns away very intentionally. _Please don’t sit next to me, please don’t sit next to_ , he chants in his head. 

Billy sits next to him. He’s wearing his everyday clothes not his gym clothes.

Steve doesn’t turn or act like he even notices, but Hargrove isn’t content to let Steve ignore him.

“Well, look who it is,” Billy says, quiet enough to not draw heat. “I didn’t take you for a wrestling guy, Stevie.”

Steve doesn’t recall ever telling Hargrove his first name, and he definitely hasn’t ever allowed anyone to call him _Stevie_. It isn’t like his name is a secret. It gets thrown around the court plenty. It’s just weird hearing him say it.

“Yeah, well, me neither.”

“First time?” Billy whispers.

Steve looks at him out the corner of his eye. Billy grins at him and Steve doesn’t say anything and the coach is asking them to get up. He calls Hargrove over to him and he must be telling him he needs to change because he walks off to the locker room afterward. 

They pair off and the coach talks them through the basics of footwork and stance and what is allowed and not allowed. The first guy Steve faces off with isn’t someone he’s met before. The kid looks a little familiar like maybe he’s seen him around but that’s it. They aren’t supposed to be sparing yet, this is just the introduction. 

For some reason when he envisioned wrestling before it had involved a lot more fighting and a lot less awkward personal space invasion. He’s got his arm around some other guy’s waist and his dick nearly in the guy’s ass. Ricky? That might be his name. He doesn't even know the guy’s name and he’s giving him a gentle bear hug from behind. Alright, whatever! Just go with it, it’s only the first day. 

“Good,” their coach says. “I want you to practice this for the next ten minutes. When you finish with your current partner you’re going to switch off to the person on your right.” 

Those ten minutes go by with drawn out, and progressively sweatier, slowness. It’s starting to seem less weird and more like a square dance on your knees when- fuck, he actually forgot that guy was here for a moment- Hargrove drops down behind him. 

“Isn’t this cozy?” Hargrove says close to his ear in that moronic voice he uses. Weird sleazy trash is always spilling out of Hargrove’s mouth and Steve can’t tell half the time if he’s making an innuendo or insulting him. 

“Yeah, it’s just peachy.” 

Of course Hargrove gets to start with the dominant stance. He jostles Steve as he gets up close, closer than any of the other boys had dared. His thighs bump against the back of Steve’s legs. The muscles in his arm are hard and tense and ready. He’s too eager. His energy is dancing all over place, as usual, that wildly competitive streak showing through as always.

Some people are like that, Steve has noticed. Loud and opinionated and prepared to fight their way through life whether life is even taking a shot at them or not, and maybe those people are the successful ones, maybe the quiet pacifists don’t make it very far. He isn’t sure which one he is. It's looking a lot like he's the soft optimist right now though which isn't helping him much.

“Just remember to tap out when it starts to hurt, Harrington,” Hargrove says with a niceness so cloying it sounds like a threat. 

“Can we just do this? I don’t wanna be here all day,” Steve snaps.

And of course, Hargrove has him pinned uncomfortably to the mat in a matter of seconds. He’s clearly done this before, Steve is also not really in the mood to wrestle someone right now which is ironic given his choosing this class out of everything. Now that he thinks about it, he’s not sure what the hell was going through his head when he picked this elective.

_Are you depressed and tired, Steve? Why not physically grapple every irritating dude in the school for fun! It'll be a blast!_

_-_ God he’s an idiot. He should have chosen something relaxing. Like watercolors. And then he wouldn’t be here with his face smashed into the ground, his arm twisted under him, and an obnoxious prick snickering behind him. He hears the coach blow his whistle and everyone disbands. Hargrove releases him and he gets up gingerly off his knees. The coach approaches Hargrove and reprimands him. “This is an introductory class Mr.Hargrove. I don’t want to see any moves being used that we haven’t covered in class, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Hagrove says placatingly. 

“Alright, good work, everyone,” the coach calls out and to everyone's dismay he makes them spend the next half of class doing push ups, pull ups, and sit ups. Steve looks on in disgust as Hargrove, a few paces over, effortlessly plows through his sets of push ups, before looking away and resolving to not look at him again for the rest of the class even though he can practically feel him showing off nearby the whole time. He skips the locker rooms and goes straight home that day. He’s more over it than he is sweaty.

Another day and a half goes by and he is back on the bleachers in the auditorium as the coach gives a short lecture on tapping out and how this isn’t that crap they do on TV.

Hargrove is late again. The coach says nothing this time but gives him a look that doesn’t bode well.

They all get up to stand in a half circle where the coach points at Steve and beckons him to the front of the group for a demonstration. Steve groans inwardly but reminds himself this is an introductory class and better yet he doesn’t have to answer some dumb math question this time, he just has to stand there.

He stands there, feet apart, as coach Rand walks them through single leg take downs. He sounds more passionate about all this than Steve thinks anyone working at a high school has any right to. He crouches and puts his arm through Steve's legs and grabs him behind the knee, catching him off guard so that Steve windmills his arms ridiculously to steady himself.

But Rand doesn’t take him out like it feels like he’s about to. He releases him. “Plant your feet Steve,” he commands. “Drop your weight.” 

Steve hears some chuckling from his classmates and his eyes flick to the group for a quick second where they unfortunately catch sight of Hargrove, looking gleeful and grinning as he stands there feet apart in his sleeveless cropped sweatshirt, eyebrows raised, and...chewing gum? -Which is definitely not allowed. Steve looks down at Rand, who’s still got his arm around his leg and pretends he didn’t see Hargrove’s smug face or the way his biceps bulge out when he’s got them crossed over his chest like that.

“Put your left leg back, Harrington- see how he has all the leverage here? You wanna make sure you get your hand on the back of the calf, get that upward momentum.” He slaps the back of Steve’s leg. “You wanna own this calf!” He lets go of Steve and waves him away. 

Steve walks back to take a place at one side of the half circle of students feeling a little violated.

Hargrove looks over at Steve. _“You ready to be owned?”_ he hisses with a secretive smile. 

Steve rolls his eyes in annoyance. _God_.

They go through the same song and dance this time repeating the moves they’ve been shown and changing partner’s whenever someone gets taken down. He doesn’t want to look at Hargrove but he can’t help but notice the rate at which he’s going through his practice partners, and getting dangerously close to pairing up with Steve. He’s only one person away when the coach calls time on them and forces them to do another round of exercises. This time Hargrove is right next to him and it’s - annoying. It’s just annoying! 

Steve keeps his eyes straight ahead as he does his crunches until his stomach burns and ignores the fact that Hargrove has done probably twice as many in the same time before rolling over to complete the push ups. Everyone is sweating now and he can smell them- or him. Mostly just Hargrove. Because he’s too close and the guy on Steve’s other side gave up a long time ago and keeps laying on the mat when Rand looks away. 

Hargrove’s smell is not unpleasant necessarily. Steve is used to being around sweaty dudes anyway. But the weird thing is that he _remembers_ Hargrove’s smell. It hits him hard, bringing him back instantly to the basketball court and the locker room weeks ago. Whatever it is, that musky scent, kinda pungent like he probably drank a few beers last night, but weirdly not gross, kinda mixed with whatever terrible cologne he uses. It's just sort of annoying. Annoying that Steve can’t get away from it.

When they finish Steve is tired and his arms feel like noodles. Hargrove tries to catch his eye before he leaves but he skips the showers again, doesn’t say anything to anyone, and goes home.

His “elective” class is only a few days a week. The weekend passes and he has the chance to jokingly pull a one leg take down on Mike during a drunken romp that ends in his parent’s coffee table losing one of its legs. They super glue it and hope no one notices, at least long enough for it to be blamed on someone else. 

Next week it is the same song and dance with Hargrove. It’s beginning to feel like all the classes he has with the guy are literally just the two of them. Hargrove draws so much attention to himself it’s like everyone else is just background noise. He knew there was going to be grappling involved in this class but a jolt of terrifying visceral realness zings through him as Billy Hargrove once again gets him pinned and straddles his ass, his thick legs squeezing Steve, and it’s so fucking distracting Steve knows he’s suppose to be trying to reverse the hold but he can actually feel Hargrove’s junk pressed against his ass and hip.

Hargrove leaves before him this time. He’s got surprisingly less to say than normal. 

Steve staggers out into the afternoon sun feeling dazed, the sensation of that hot weight sticking with him, clinging to his muscle memory; the feel of smooth, tan, slightly sweaty forearms under his fingers and that bulge against his ass cheek. It’s disorienting and persistent, making him feel a little squirrely the same way he usually feels before he’s about to go on a first date or something. He goes home, takes out his Walkman and cassette tapes and buries himself in his headphones.

Hargrove misses the class on reversals. Steve thinks he will finally be able to concentrate on whatever is going on in class for once but ironically he spends the whole thing thinking about Hargrove anyway and wondering what the hell would keep him from coming today. In any case, he’s not half bad at this whole wrestling thing when Hargrove isn’t around to show him up.

He resolved over a week ago to ignore Hargrove at all costs but when he comes in on Wednesday afternoon with a bruise on his cheek Steve can’t stop looking at him. 

Hargrove’s rapid fire personality is strangely subdued. He does not make a single jab at Steve and for the most part just acts like he’s not there for once. 

It should be a relief, but it feels wrong. And Steve is annoyed again, because now he is worried about the guy he didn’t want to deal with, because he’s that dumb ass, who apparenty gets concerned about people who live to make his life miserable.

So of course he’s not entirely focused when they start to practice and some guy, Jerry or Terry or something- decides to get aggressive about it. The coach has instructed them to play to win at this point and it is still supposed to be in the spirit of learning but there always has to be one guy who takes it too far. He expected that guy to be Hargrove to be honest but hey sometimes he’s wrong. 

Steve lets out a howl of pain. Anger springing up inside him as whatshisface- who he has managed to top the last few classes- grapples him vindictively to the mat and pins his arm back harder than necessary. He refuses to let go even after Steve taps. Steve yells at him and when he does let go the coach is not looking. Of course. Rand looks over after the fact.

“Everything alright?” Rand asks them.

“Yeah, totally,” Terry- Jerry or- whatever his name is, says.

Steve glares hotly at him and considers shoving him, Rand be damned, but just makes a mental note to watch him next time. What he doesn’t see is Hargrove changing places with the guy next to him. 

He’s wondering if he should tell the next guy to go easy on his now kind of fucked up arm when there’s a hard tumbling thud next to him and Terry (or Jerry) screams as Hargrove locks him into a move they definitely haven’t been taught and there is an audible popping sound that makes him cringe hard.

Coach Rand is yelling at them instantly.

Billy is on his feet. He wipes his hands on his shorts and brushes his hair back. Steve catches his eye for a split second and even though Billy is tight jawed and defensive he doesn’t look threatening when he glances at Steve. His eyebrows do a little jump before he looks away and Steve is pretty sure he just did whatever he did on purpose. For Steve. But that’s probably Steve just being delusional and confused because that would never happen.

Coach Rand comes over as Hargrove marches out of the gymnasium, pushes the bar across the door that opens it with a clunching noise as he disappears into the bright hallway.

Their coach begins yelling at them about how they are not here to injure each other no matter what they may think wrestling is. Steve is still staring at the door. _Wondering_. 

“I think my shoulder- it’s dislocated,” whatshisface says pitifully. 

“I’m going to take him to the nurse. You will finish your exercise sets and then we’re done for the day,” Rand tells them with hard disappointment in his voice. “If you leave _early_ I will know.” Obviously this is not true and after he walks their crippled classmate out of the room half of the boys wait half a minute before sneaking out without finishing the workout. Steve doesn’t usually ditch class but it doesn’t seem fair that Hargrove left and Steve has to do all the exercises on his own. He considers skipping out early too but then thinks about how many more push ups Hargrove can do and then considers staying- but Hargrove. Where did he go?

Steve leaves the whopping four remaining boys in the gymnasium and wanders out into the hall where there is no sign of the new guy. He’s pretty sure he went right and travels that way just on the off chance he sees him somewhere. If he is anywhere in the building he’s not in the halls. Steve’s search is unintentionally thorough.

He heads back to the gymnasium. He’s got to do at least five push ups or he’s going to feel like an even bigger loser than he already does right now.

Of course the moment he’s given up on Hargrove he finds him. He makes a detour to the bathroom on his way back and there he is. He makes a full stop as soon as he walks in and sets eyes on him.

Hargrove is looking at himself in the mirror like he just finished up washing his hands. He catches Steve in the mirror but his expression doesn’t change.

“What’s up, princess,” Hargrove says. 

It’s not the first time he’s called him that, making fun of his fallen crown, or whatever social rejection he thinks is going on. If people aren’t paying attention to Steve anymore he really hasn’t even noticed.

“Uh...you alright?” He asks. It’s not what he planned to say when he found him, in fact he hadn’t even got that far in his head to be honest, but now saying anything else just seems weird.

Hargrove makes a face and does a little shrug like isn’t it obvious he’s fine?

Steve just nods. Stands there, puts his hands in jean pockets and nods awkwardly.

Billy stares at him like he doesn’t really _get_ why he’s here. Then he turns around, actually looking at Steve outside of the mirror and leans back on the counter. “How ‘bout you? How’s your arm?”

“Hurts a little but it’s fine. Not sure if I should thank you or not.”

“I didn’t do it for you.”

“I -I didn’t think that you did,” Steve blurts. 

“So you think I just like to hurt people for fun?”

“Uh- no? I mean, do you?” 

Billy doesn’t respond and so Steve’s mouth decides to just keep going in an awkward attempt to fill the silence. “I mean I guess you’re a little rough on the court, either way, that guy is a dick, you know? So, like, yeah. Good job.” Oh god. What is he saying? Hargrove is obviously just fucking with him.

Hargrove suddenly looks a little too comfortable, like embarrassing Steve is familiar territory for him. He crosses his arms over his chest and a tiny evil smile creeps up at the corner of his mouth. “Maybe I did do it for you,” Hargrove says. 

Steve laughs. 

Hargrove scrutinizes him and then he laughs as well, flashing a quick sharp smile before putting it away, and Steve still can’t tell if he’s being serious or not. He feels a wave of even more awkward small talk burbling up inside him so he escapes into a bathroom stall...to stall, ironically. 

“It’s not three yet, he let you guys out early?”

“Rand took Terry to the nurse, technically we aren’t supposed to leave yet.”

“Look at you, breaking the rules. Didn’t know you had it in you.”

Steve says nothing, because now he’s in the stall and somehow this is more embarrassing because he doesn’t actually have to use the toilet. Hargrove saves him from the mortification of attempting it by making his exit then. “See ya around, Harrington. Lemme know if you wanna wrestle some time.”

Steve relaxes. Well now he can’t go back to class because apparently Billy Hargrove doesn’t think he _has it in_ _him_ to ditch. He doesn’t know the first thing about Steve, and Steve is gonna show him that. He leaves the bathroom and heads for the parking lot intending to walk right out in front of Billy- but instead coach Rand turns the corner of the hallway just as Steve reaches the double doors. 

“Are you going somewhere, Steve?” He says although he knows exactly what Steve is doing.

Steve groans. Of course. Of course Rand would be here. Right now. “I just- my shoulder is kinda messed up-”

“You boys need to learn some discipline. I’m frankly just boggled by some of the behavior I’m seeing in this class. It’s going to be detention for you.”

“But sir-”

“No. Don’t try to argue, Mr. Harrington. Being the captain of the basketball team does not give you special treatment. I’m sorry it just doesn’t.” Rand storms off in a tiff leaving Steve with his mouth open in disbelief. 

“You gotta be kidding me,” Steve says to himself. He smashes through the double doors out into the front of the school and makes his way irritably to his car. 

Billy is in the lot still, leaning against his car like he usually does, waiting for his sister probably. He already has his eye on Steve before Steve catches sight of him and Steve wants to ask him why he is even paying attention to him when he acts like he’s so much better all the time. Steve is already supposed to be babysitting next week. He doesn’t have time for any other after school activities- like detention.

“How do I look?” Steve asks. “Like the pinnacle of masculinity right?” He holds out his arms to show off his spandex wrestling singlet in the Hawkin’s High colors, silver and green. But the kids just dissolve into laughter at the sight. He thinks it’s ridiculous too, he isn’t even offended at their amusement, but this is what the coach said they had to wear for class next week.

"I can't believe you gave up basket ball for the most inherently homoerotic sport on the planet," Dustin says in his clinical tone.

That one actually makes Steve a little uncomfortable. "What the hell are you talking about, man! What about Hulk Hogan?"

"I rest my case."

"You know what? Whatever."

"I think it's cool," Will says.

_"Thank you."_

He’s kind of glad Hargrove went all He-man on their classmate and got kicked out already because he doesn’t think he would have been able to handle the mockery that would’ve inevitably been dished out to him in this get up. 

Hargrove somehow managed to avoid detention- unlike Steve. Steve had been more than expecting to be stuck with him for that too but apparently what he had done warranted more than detention and he had simply been kicked out of wrestling without redemption.

He puts the singlet away and changes into normal clothes for the duration of their game night and wonders if Hargrove, apparently a seasoned wrestler, has ever worn spandex. It doesn’t really go with his bad boy look. Steve pushes that image out of his mind. He doesn’t want to think about him in spandex. He doesn’t want to think about him straddling Steve with only a thin stretchy layer between them. 

He leaves the locker rooms in costume the next day, ready to take on the class and see if Terry (who he’s simply decided to refer to as TJ) is there today. He scans the row of boys standing there with their gangly limbs, looking like a lot of praying mantises in stretchy onesies pretending to be humans. Puberty isn’t easy on anyone. 

Except for one of them. 

One of them fills out the smooth shiny spandex too well. Everything on display from the strong calves to thick thighs, all the way up to that modest yet compact behind. Steve chokes on his spit. Why. Why is _he_ still here? Steve takes his spot on the other end as far away from the new guy as possible and stares so hard at the mat in front of him his eyes start to hurt as Rand begins his speech.

“I know there was some... _miscommunication_ last class”- 

that’s an interesting word for it, Steve thinks

-“But I am hoping we can all do better this time, after all, this is a _learning environment_. Alright?”

Somehow, magically, like he’s rolled some absurd high number in his kid’s dumb fantasy roleplay game, he manages to evade Hargrove. He doesn’t get paired with him once. They are even on opposite sides of the room for most of the class. The one time he chances a glance over that way he thinks he sees Hargrove looking over at him but he refuses to look up and find out for sure. He hears the coach complimenting Billy at some point. It sounds like Billy is sucking up to him this class, trying to get into Rand’s good graces after last time. Hargrove is good at manipulating adults, Steve remembers the way he got out of missing class by telling their math teacher some sob story about his new little sister needing to be rescued from some bullies at the arcade. Steve has met Max and the only one she seems to need rescuing from is her brother. The thought makes Steve laugh to himself.

He decides to actually use the locker room after class. It’s hot today and he’s ripe after their workout. Everyone seems to be on their best behavior so maybe no one will pull any shit for long enough that he can rinse and get out of here. He’s supposed to go to the mall later with Dustin.

Hargrove comes in soon after Steve and Steve has got most of his clothes off already, he’s trying to be quick about this. He gets into the shower leaving a cautious eye out for Billy, who seems to finally be ignoring him. He doesn’t mean to watch Hargrove strip but the guy just makes him anxious about turning his back or closing his eyes around him. Last time they got into the shower at the same time Steve ended up blind with a face full of soap. 

Half of the class just grabs their stuff and dips. The remaining five students wash off and change their clothes.

Hargrove peels the top of his wrestling singlet down and leaves it like that, like he’s just wearing a pair of small painted on shorts. Why it is more provocative than simply seeing him butt naked in the shower is a conundrum for science, but Steve has a hard time looking in his direction once he does it. Hargrove doesn’t seem to be in any kind of a hurry, he’s talking shit with one of the other guys who’s been doing alright in the class, and the guy is telling Hargrove in some juvenile attempt to impress what he must think is the alpha male about how he got some guy in a chokehold a while back.

Steve rolls his eyes and finally turns around. He’s somehow gone from being the first person into the shower in a hurry to be done, to being the last person in the shower and he hasn’t even washed his hair. 

He hears the water faucet squeal and erupt into a spray next to him and...maybe if he simply doesn’t look over he can avoid what he knows is there. Amazingly his tactic _actually_ works. He says screw it to washing his hair, he can always do that at home, and quickly rinses and gets out only looking at Hargrove when he has to turn and grab his towel and Hargrove’s eyes are blatantly following Steve again, the guy is as subtle as a monster truck in a Benz dealership.

Steve dries off next to the lockers wondering how in the hell they are the last people in the room. Okay, maybe there is like one other guy on the other side somewhere, he can hear him rummaging around but basically it’s just him and Hargrove.

As soon as he leans over to pull on his jeans Hargrove is there.

“So how about it, Stevie boy?” Hargrove asks. 

From this angle Steve can see the water dripping down Billy’s calves and thighs. He tries not to look any higher than that

- _shit, too late-_

But thank god Hargrove’s got his towel balled up in front of him.

“What?”

“I said how ‘bout it? We gonna get together, practice our moves? You know Jerry’s gonna be back and on your ass, you gotta get good man, so they don’t fuck with you.”

“Oh yeah? Is that what you did?” Steve stands up straight and looks at him, his dark wet bangs slopping across his face.

Hargrove smiles defensively. “I don’t need the practice, I’m just trying to be nice.”

“Nice? I didn’t think that word was in your vocab. And you know, the only one on my ass around here seems to be _you_.”

Hargrove’s eyes glitter, somehow more enticed by Steve’s goading than he is mad about it.

Steve tries to finish buttoning his pants because Hargrove is stepping closer and he’s feeling a little exposed right now-

Hargrove’s hand comes down on the locker behind Steve as he flings his towel over his shoulder.

Steve is half caged in and he could escape to the side but he holds his ground and stares at the other boy, waiting for him to try something. If Hargrove’s towel is over his shoulder well...Steve keeps his eyes firmly up top. 

“This is the only time I’m gonna offer, pretty boy.”

Steve’s forgotten already what exactly it is that Hargrove is offering, but if he knows anything about the guy by now it's that that’s complete crap. He’ll persist. Persistence is probably his middle name.

Steves not interested in being intimidated by this guy. He knows how to stand up for himself when he actually cares to bother. He takes a step forward breaching Hargrove’s inner circle of personal space- the one even Hargrove still respects. 

But Hargrove doesn’t go on the defensive. He tips his head back a little and Steve is surprised by his calm reaction, or... lack of reaction. His mind starts racing a mile a minute suddenly because Billy doesn’t look harassed at all, he looks- he looks _excited_. His gaze absolutely plasters itself to Steve’s face, sliding heavily from Steve’s eyes to his lips, his nostrils flare just a little, and when his eyes climb back up to meet Steve’s glare there’s a little smile at the corner of his sloppy mouth, that mouth that’s hanging open just a little in that teasing nasty way like he’s always just about to spout some shit or make some threat. 

And _Jesus_! Steve- he’s really misread this whole thing hasn’t he? _Is he going crazy,_ he asks himself, _or_ _is Hargrove just...could he just- no. No way! Steve, you are freaking losing it, man!_

“So’s that a yes?”

“What do you want, Hargrove?” Steve asks, accentuating each word with hard annoyance. 

And Hargrove- Billy- he really doesn’t even fucking stutter, he just- he pulls the towel so it slides off his shoulder slowly and licks his lips. “You,” he says.

 _"What?”_ Steve isn’t sure this is happening. 

“Didn’t you hear me? I thought I was being clear as daylight but maybe you’re just a little slower than I thought you were.” He smiles like the jerk he is.

Steve should probably hit him now. Right? ‘Cus there is only really one other option and walking away isn’t it. 

He hears the last guy in the locker room leave and the door shuts heavily behind him.

Billy’s eyes shine with the knowledge they’re alone now. The towel he pulled off his shoulder is around Steve’s waist suddenly like a lasso and he’s tugging Steve closer and Steve isn’t fighting it- _why isn’t he fighting it?_

Billy backs him up into the cool metal of the locker while simultaneously pulling him tighter to him with the towel. 

Steve would fight him, he really would, if he felt like he needed to but he’s been staring at Billy’s mouth now for the last half a minute and wondering what it might taste like so it's probably too late for the whole punching him thing. 

Before Billy can make the next move Steve decides he gets this one. He grabs Hargrove roughly by the back of the neck and kisses him. For a split second the terror of having been totally wrong screams through him- Maybe Hargrove really was just trying to push his buttons- but then there is an unfamiliar tongue in his mouth the next second and it doesn’t matter.

 _Fuck_ -is the only thought his brain seems to be able to produce right now- _What the fuck? Oh fuck yeah, though. So fucking good. How - and why? Why hasn’t he ever- why didn’t he- oh shit this isn’t happening but yes it fucking is. It sure fucking is._

Hargrove’s skin is wet from the shower and Steve’s own must be too. When Hargrove pushes up against him their skin slides together. 

Billy’s forearm is up on the locker and his hand is on Steve’s waist and Steve has no idea where to put his hands because Billy Hargrove is naked. So, so fucking naked. 

They kiss until he’s so hard he feels like he’s going to explode and things don’t seem to be going anywhere just building infinitely and neither one of them seems like they’re going to be the first to stop it. He’s dumb horny, beyond dumb horny just completely stupid senseless and Billy has the nerve to smirk at him between their mouths and say something like “Jesus, Harrington, what are you fourteen?”

Which is a bullshit rich sentiment coming from him. Steve can see his erection all too well, in fact, he looks down and Billy watches him. He’s not sure he wants to touch it. If he touches it it means something, something he can’t take back. 

_Annnd_ Hargrove is grabbing Steve's hand and putting it on his dick anyway so...what was he even thinking about? His brain might be making microwave noises at this point just: _mmmMhmmmmMmmm_ and he’s got a dick in his hand.

“You wanna get out of here?” Hargrove asks as he squeezes Steve's fingers, the fingers he has around Billy's dick.

This guy is fucking insane.

Steve pushes him slowly back to the bench. “Out of here? Yeah, sure.” His brain is disconnected from his body because his body is guiding them to sit down on the bench. The thought is nice, leaving, going somewhere else. Not getting off with a guy for the first time in a gym room but Hargrove’s knees touch his and they’re sitting face to face straddling the long bench. 

Steve’s pants are on but he’s worked his throbbing erection out of them and Billy is staring at it like he’s going to start drooling, in fact he might be a little bit. "Fuck Harrington,” he exhales. He scoots forward and puts a leg over Steve’s thigh, reaching down, his fingers are electric on Steve’s cock. Steve moans and his whole body jerks. _Fuck_.

“Someones gonna come in here eventually- w-we should…” Steve tries to be rational. 

“Yeah, that’s the plan big boy.”

The thought of coming propels him even closer to it, and he lunges in to kiss Billy again, reaching out to stroke him in turn as Billy strokes his cock like he’s done this a million times and knows what he’s doing.

“Shit, babe,” Billy moans into his mouth.

Steve is so worked up now he can’t keep up any pretense between them. He edges forward nearly pulling Billy into his lap and Billy goes for it, he puts his other leg over Steve’s thigh just like he had with the other one. He can’t believe this is the guy who shoved him down on the court, now practically obedient in his lap.

Steve’s hands snap to Billy’s wrist and stop his tight strokes just before he completely loses it. “Oh god-” 

“Yeah?”

Steve grips Billy’s cock through his blur of near-orgasm until Billy is shivering, still wet, now from the humidity and perspiration, looking shinier and more obscene than anything he’s ever seen, his hair hanging in damp curls all over his shoulders. For a moment Billy reaches back to brace himself and leans back letting his head fall, and there’s just the smooth plane of his stomach and chest all the way up to his neck and Steve swears again, giving himself a squeeze as he looks at the image. 

He’s sure Billy’s going to come, but he stops Steve’s hand just like Steve stopped him and sits back upright curving forward to continue sucking on Steve’s lip before untangling himself and pushing Steve down onto the bench.

Steve lets it happen although he’s not sure what Billy’s doing, at this point anything is gonna do it for Steve.

He must not be very imaginative though because what happens next doesn’t come close to anything he was thinking. Billy spits into his hand and strokes it onto Steve, let’s a line of saliva run out of his mouth onto their dicks- it should be gross but -then Billy straddles him and lowers himself onto Steve’s cock. Steve has to grab the very slim bench under him to subdue the shock and then just lets the back of his head hit the bench closing his eyes only for a second before remembering he wants to _see this._

Hargrove lets out a whimper and moans one broken guttural moan and Steve is coming, the tight heat around his cock squeezing the life out of him as Billy rides him and he’s coming just a second ahead of Steve, white spurts of semen shoot out in front of him, some cling to Billy’s hand, some probably land on the floor, and one hits Steve directly across the mouth. He doesn’t really think about whether he likes the taste, it all seems good because he’s still riding out the tail end of the hardest orgasm in history. 

When his cock slides free and Billy’s weight is removed he lies there like a rag doll.

Billy uses one of the school towels to remove the cum from his hands before he throws it on Steve’s chest. Steve can barely move. Only the idea of being found like this motivates him to sit up and wipe the stuff off his face. Billy is looking at him with satisfaction.

“How’s it taste?”

“Uh... like- like jizz.” 

“Nothing new for you then?”

“Well, no- I mean yeah, but like, I _know_ what it tastes like.” 

“How would you know that?”

Steve glares at him. He’s not even off the bench and Billy is yanking him around.

“What? Like you haven’t tasted your own?”

“Sure, Harrington.”

Steve rakes a hand back through his long damp hair. “I don’t have enough brain cells to do the whole _-whatever this is,_ right now.”

Billy smirks but stays quiet while they put their clothes on, in fact he seems to get even quieter by the second until they are dressed and ready to leave and then his face is sullen and closed off as usual and a little defensive.

“See you later, Stevie,” Billy says and starts to leave. 

Steve looks at him with disbelief. “Hey!” 

Billy pauses and turns back. “Yeah?”

“What do you mean ‘yeah’?”

“I’m sorry?” Billy asks like he doesn’t understand what Steve’s deal is.

Steve isn’t interested in his bullshit, actually he’s more than interested, which is why he’s not going to put up with it. He gets threateningly close to Billy again, close enough to lean in and kiss him if he is inclined and Billy looks uncharacteristically unsure. 

“Thought you wanted to get out of here?” Steve smiles and there’s an invitation in it. 

The insecurity on Billy’s face starts to clear. “You got some place in mind?”

“I mean, we could go back to my house. Weren’t you supposed to show me your awesome wrestling moves?”

Steve smiles and Billy tries to towel whip him as they leave before binning the soiled thing.

Wrestling might not be Steve’s thing but he thinks he may have found something that is... 

  
  



End file.
